


Cruelly Stung

by Eliyes



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliyes/pseuds/Eliyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfic featuring Bobby Drake, Jean-Paul Beaubier, and a rogue member of the Hymenoptera order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruelly Stung

**Author's Note:**

> As far as I know, Jubilee has never been mentioned as having a wasp sting allergy, but for purposes of this fic, she does. Many thanks to the people I pestered on AIM who _are_ allergic and who put up with me pestering them about what it's like to be stung.
> 
> This story was originally posted on Livejournal May 16, 2007.

 

" _WASP!_ "

Jean-Paul wasn't sure who it was that made the panicked cry, but undeniably, there was a wasp in the coffee room. Chairs and tables scraped as people rushed away and _for God's sake, these were grown adults and **superheroes** running from a bug_ , he thought.

"Okay, nobody panic," Scott said, one hand coming up to his glasses.

"Are you gonna zap it?" Jubilee asked anxiously, edging towards the door.

"If it settles, yes," Scott said patiently.

"Oh, is that _really_ necessary? It's just a bug!" Jean-Paul asked skeptically.

"Jubilation is allergic to the stings," Scott replied in his same calm tone, head moving as he tracked the wasp. Jubilee nodded vigorously.

"I swell up like a puffer fish, it's not pretty and it hurts like - like I can't even tell you, like hot pins inside your skin only worse and then you can't breathe!"

Jean-Paul winced. He was just opening his mouth to offer to try to swat the thing when Bobby sauntered in, apparently not noticing how everyone was collected on the side of the room away from the counter. He walked right over to the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh mug.

"Bobby, you're in the _way_ \--" Scott began, prompting Bobby to turn and look at him, and the motion set the wasp flying again.

"Oh," Bobby said. He turned back to the counter and, setting down his coffee, rummaged around until he found the sugar. He poured some into the palm of his hand. Turning just that hand to ice, he offered it up to the wasp where it had lit on the cabinets.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the wasp cautiously took to the air, and everyone watched it silently, until finally it landed on Bobby's palm.

"Why's he _feeding_ it--" Jubilee hissed, but Kitty shushed her.

Slowly Bobby lowered his hand to mid-chest, and just as slowly covered it over the sugar and the cold-drowsy insect. He flashed Scott a quick, wry grin.

"Less collateral damage this way. I'll just... go wash my hands."

After Bobby left with the wasp, tension drained from the room, and people sheepishly put the chairs and tables back in place. Jean-Paul topped up his coffee, and noticed Bobby had left his mug on the counter. He glanced around, but no one was paying him any attention , so he picked it up and left.

Bobby was not far; as Jean-Paul had suspected, he hadn't gone to the men's room to wash his hands at all (why should he when there was a sink in the break room?) but had instead ducked out one of the side exits that dotted the place. He stopped just inside the screen door, watching. Bobby was sitting on the step, his hand -- now flesh -- extended into the sunshine. The wasp was sluggishly nosing through the sugar, it looked like.

"C'mon," Bobby murmured. "Fly away so I can go get my coffee before someone dumps it down the sink on me."

Jean-Paul cleared his throat, and Bobby's shoulders tensed.

"I have brought your coffee," he said quietly.

"Thanks," Bobby said, not turning. Jean-Paul hoped it was to keep an eye on the wasp, but perhaps it was because of how uncomfortable they'd been with one another. He knew he was to blame for that -- Bobby had still kept trying to be friendly, but he hadn't reciprocated as much as he wanted to, in an effort to keep from losing his heart. Even though Bobby had been nice, he pushed him away to avoid hurting himself worse, later. Suddenly, looking at the man muttering to a bug that he could just as easily have squashed or frozen to hurry up and go, he wanted his coffee -- suddenly he felt he had made a mistake.

"Ow!" Bobby hissed suddenly, and the wasp flew away.

"Did it sting you?" Jean-Paul asked, concerned, as Bobby stood and wiped the sugar away with a pained face.

"Yeah, it did."

"You gave it sugar, and still it stung you?" He pushed the door open with his shoulder, half-stepping outside.

"Story of my life," Bobby muttered, peering at his hand. It turned as clear as glass, and he sighed. "Well, at least they don't leave barbs. Coffee?"

Jean-Paul handed him his mug, shaking his head.

"You could have killed it -- you gave it its life, took it outside, gave it _freedom_ \--"

"Gave it the freedom to _sting_. Wasps _do_ that, Jean-Paul." Bobby gave him a strange look and sipped his coffee, pulling the door open. Jean-Paul stepped back inside to let him by.

"It was just a wasp."

Jean-Paul watched him walk away.


End file.
